


The Fumbling Wolf

by USKiwi



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Ned Stark Lives, the pack survives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:00:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24911992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USKiwi/pseuds/USKiwi
Summary: Ned Stark thanked the gods he was alive again and with his family. He just wished he knew why, he felt that he should, like there was something at the back of his mind. But as he tried to grasp for it it slipped away.Perhaps ravishing his wife immediately after waking up back in Winterfell hadn’t been the best idea after all.
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark
Comments: 33
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

It was dark, why was it so dark? Surely he had led a good life, yes he had killed but he had not enjoyed it. He had been a good man! A good husband! A good father! He didn’t deserve to be here, he didn’t deserve to be in…

“Ned?”

The sound of his wife’s voice startled him so much he rolled out of bed towards the floor. As he feet touched the cool stone he realised he could not be dead. Which meant that he still had the injury to his leg but his leg didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt? What was going on? Had it all just been a nightmare?

Hearing a noise he looked back at the bed, at the form that was starting to sit up in it. “Ned what is wrong?”

He felt his breath catch in his lungs. “Cat?”

His wife, the one that should be somewhere in the Riverlands was now kneeling up in the bed, not any bed but their bed. He looked around bewildered, he was back home, back in Winterfell. But how? 

“Ned your starting to scare me.”

He put his arms on her shoulders, then slowly drew them up over her neck to cup her face. In the back of his mind there was something trying to claw out. A voice trying to tell him something, to warn him of something, but all he cared about in that almost non-existent light was that he was holding the woman he loved in his hands. 

“Ned what are…” He silenced her with a kiss, trying to express all his feelings in the small amount of contact. Slowly he felt her start to relax, then to respond with her arms moving to his back. The small squeal she made when he brought his hands further down and lifted her up and then down further onto their bed made his blood boil. 

He looked down at her running his right hand down her cheek “No more talking.” Nothing else mattered as he looked to claim her once again.  
\---------  
Several hours later

He woke with the welcoming feeling of light in his eyes. For some reason he felt absolutely exhausted. Then he turned to his side and he remembered why. His wife was still sound a sleep, her hair a mess of red over the pillows. A grin spread across his face, when you had a loving marriage as long as theirs one tended to pick up what pleased their partner in bed. He had made sure to put all that knowledge to use last night.

Slowly the smile drained from his face as he remembered what had happened. What her actions had cost. Sitting up he ran his hands over his face and took a breath. Her actions may have been rash but his own, gods his own… He got up, wincing a bit due to the slight pain in his lower back. Maybe he had been a bit too enthusiastic last night, he was not a young man anymore. 

Slowly he became aware of a knock at the door, loud and urgent. Throwing on some clothes he headed to the door, pulling it open he found Poole in front of him, looking the same as the last time he saw him before he marched into the Red Keep. “My Lord I’m sorry if I woke you but it is Lord Bran, he is very ill.”

If he wanted any further evidence that this was not the afterlife then it was standing right there in front of him. After all why would Poole be... wait what had he said? “I’m sorry can you repeat that Bran is …”

“He is ill my Lord, Maester Ludwin is with him, Lord Robb sent me.” His faithful servant looked at him queerly. “My Lord are you feeling okay? You look a bit pale. What about Lady Catelyn?”

He felt his face go a bit red despite the situation. “We are fine Vayon, thank you. I’ll wake up Cat and we’ll be there shortly.”

Not waiting for the door to shut he hurried back over to the bed. Gently he gave his wife a shake “Cat, Cat my love.” 

She half opened her eyes and looked up at him. “Ned what is it?”

Before he could answer he heard the door fly open, turning around he saw Arya come to a stop behind him. She had been running so fast she almost toppled over as her upper body tried to keep moving. “You have to come quick, its Bran!”

Without thinking he rushed across and grabbed her in his arms, lifting her up in a hug. His little wild wolf, ohh thank the gods she was okay. He felt her tense up and try to push away. “Uhh Father you smell! Put me down.” Coming too his senses he did just that, embarrassed that he had forgotten the state he was in. Arya looked up at him, then around him to Cat, then back up to him again, her eyes going wide. “Are you both sick too?”

He heard Cat sit up in the bed. “Sick? Who is sick honey? Did someone say Bran?" 

His youngest daughter nodded her head, her eyes starting to water. “They won’t let me in to see him.” 

Right, trying to work out whatever happened before, whatever happened to bring him back here, could wait as his family needed him. “I need you to leave now little one so your mother and I can get dressed. We’ll be there shortly okay.”

Waiting till she had scampered back out of the room he turned back to his wife who was frantically getting out of bed, trying to tidy up her hair as she did so. Looking down he realised that both his hands were clinched in a fist, he made himself relax. He may not know what was going on but he would be dammed if his son would be the one to pay the price if that is what was happening.

"Don't just stand there Ned!"

"I coming my love, I'm coming."


	2. Chapter 2

He came to a halt outside of Bran's room, they were all there, all his children. They were all there, Sansa and Rickon huddled close to Robb, Jon with his arm around Arya's shoulders. Further down he could see Theon pacing hesitantly. Seeing them all there was like taking a blow to the chest from Rob's warhammer.

Blinking he became aware that Cat was speaking to them. He was too dazed to make out the words but he still picked up on the look she sent Jon.

Realising he could break down if he looked at them in the eye he just gave a brief nod and followed his wife into Bran's room. He almost walked into her as she had stopped just inside the door way, her hand not fully masking the noise that came from her mouth. Instinctively he turned to close the door but not before catching Robb's eye. Thankfully there was enough momentum for the door to keep closing by itself but he still found himself staring towards his oldest. "He is still growing his beard." Blinking he realised he was looking at a closed door. Turning towards his son's bed he found himself blinking again as he took in the state of his son.

The boy was lying flat on his back and his eyes, dear gods his eyes. It was like he was blinking but in the most horrifying way possible. His eyes flickering back and forth from normal to almost pure white, like they were being temporarily replaced by marbles. Luwin was faithfully hovering over him whilest Septa Mordane stood with her hands clasped close to the side wall. 

His wife was already by Bran's side, nearly shoving Luwin completely out of the way."Luwin what is wrong with my boy!?"

The old man looked concerned which was enough to make his blood go cold, it was rare to see the maester look fazed. "He appears to be having a seizure of some kind I dare not give him milk of the poppy without knowing how it will effect his condition." He looked up at the two parents. "Has he had any accidents recently? Perhaps a fall during one of his climbs?"

He shook his head and saw his wife do the same. "Not that I'm aware of, he has always been ...." Suddenly it all came back, Rob's visit, the direwolves, Bran lying unconscious in his bed. Feeling pressure on his arms he came back to his senses to see Cat on one side of him, Luwin on the other, both with hands on his arms. 

"I think you should sit down my lord." The two eased back to Bran's chair beside his desk, and as much as he wanted to he did not have the strength to protest. "How are you feeling my lord? Any dizziness, or lack of strength?"

"He had trouble sleeping last night, woke himself from a bad dream which he has not done in years."

Even though he still felt disjointed he looked up at his wife. "Wait what are you talking about? When have I ever woken up from that?"

She gave him the patient smile she only retained for when she though he had said something silly. "Another time Ned."

"Nether less I will have someone bring you up some light food for breakfast. And with your permission my lord I am going to need to check my books to see if I can find anything to give guidance." Giving Luwin a brief nod he watched as stride out the door the best his body allowed Ned turned back to the bed to see Cat make her way back over to it. Slowly she sat beside their son placing one hand on his head whiles the the other gripped the boy's hand. He could hear words coming out of her mouth but they were too low to make out. Probably a prayer to the seven. Could it be the old gods that had sent him back? The seven even?

Shaking his head to clear it he tried focus on what was happening in front of him. "It will be alright Cat, Bran is strong he will pull through this."

"How can you know that Ned? Even Luwin doesn't even know what this is, even if it is natural or if someone did this to him."

He felt his brow furrow in confusion. "Did this to him? Cat you can't think he was poisoned. By whom?"

She looked up at her husband and the look of malice in her eyes caught him by surprise. "By someone who would benefit from having him out of the way, someone who wants to take what isn't rightfully his."

But that didn't make any sense, the Lannisters hadn't been here yet who could she possibly be ... no. He rose from the seat, causing it to rock slightly as he desperately tried to keep his composure. "Cat listen to me because I only expect to ever say this once. Jon may not have your blood in him but he has mine and he would as soon as hurt Bran as Rob would. If you had bothered to get to know him, to actually see what type of man he was you would have seen that."

He could tell she wanted to respond but she must have seen something in his face to suggest it wasn't a good idea. The Septa did not seem to be able to since his mood quite as well. "My lady has a right to be suspicious my lord, it is in a bastard's nature...

"Stop!" He rounded onto the Septa who took a step back, pressing herself against the wall "Not another word. If I find out you have been trying to feed my daughters this same poison I will personally see you escorted back to..." He suddenly realised that despite all theses years he did not even know where the woman hailed from or even if she had family somewhere.

He sighed, he really could something to eat he couldn't even recall when he last had anything. They had hardly feed him at all in the black cells. But he hadn't been in the black cells had he? Atleast his body hadn't been. Could it all have just been a dream? A bad nightmare? He sighed running a hand down his face. "Get out. Make yourself useful and get the children down to the hall for breakfast.

"Ned you can't..."

"Last I checked I was the Lord of this castle, only reason I even allowed her to stay was because I knew it made you happy." The two woman looked at him in stunned silence before the septa gave a quick bow and left the two parents in the room. Cat stared at him but then shook herself slightly and looked back at their son. 

He went over to the other side of the bed "Bran, Bran my boy can you hear me? Can you hear us? We're right here."

There was no response just the same his wife looked up and across with him in despair. "What do you think is wrong with our boy Ned?"

"I don't know I don't understand any of this, none of it makes sense." He looked up at his wife, his partner for nearly 18 years. "But we will work through this together. The pack will survive, our _family_ will survive. And winter will come for anyone who tries to make it otherwise." He turned back towards their son missing the look of fear and confusion that his wife was giving him. 

\----

Sometime later.

Hearing a knock he saw a servant walk in with two bowls. It was not much but the smell had him almost salivating, with just a nod in thanks he wolfed it down. They had feed him a bit towards the end to make sure he had enough strength to make his confession. Looking up between mouthfuls he saw Cat staring at him with a look she usually reserved for their children. Actually his mother had used a similar look on him and his brothers and sister. "Sorry it just a feels like I haven't eaten for awhile."

"Ned is this really the time?" Looking up he saw the slight blush on his wife's face he realised she must have misinterpreted what he was referring to. Wiping his mouth he gave her a brief smile before sitting his bowl down. "I can't stay here Cat as much as I wish to. The other children must be getting worried and I can check on Luwin as well."

Only getting a brief nod he moved around the bed to place a gentle kiss on her forehead. "It will be alright Cat you'll see." 

\-------

Walking down the hallway he felt guilty for what he was about to do but he could not put it off, he needed to get to his study. He was so caught up in his thoughts he was shocked to find himself bumping into someone. Reaching out he managed to grab the woman before she completely toppled over, only then realising who it was. "I'm sorry Old Nan." Helping her to stand straight up. "Are you all right?" 

She gave him a soft smile. "I am fine my lord, I know you have a lot on your mind. Is there any word on the little lord?" 

He smiled down fondly in return at the woman who seemed to be as much a part of Winterfell as the stones that built it. A face he had thought he had seen for the last time even before that day at the Sept. "No but he is strong, I have no doubt we will see him climbing again in no time. 

"He has my prayers my Lord as I'm sure he does from everyone else in the castle."

"Thank you, you've always been good to him, to all my children." He paused a thought forming in his mind. "Maybe you can do something. Bran's eyes are changing back and forth from normal to completely white to normal again. Luwin is looking in his books and scrolls but I was wandering if you had ever heard of anything like it." He knew he was grasping but considering what had happened to him... 

She closed her eyes, when she reopened them they were wider then normal, her face having gone pale. "There are stories of skinchangers my lord whose eyes turn that colour when they have warged into a creature. They say that the longer that a person is in a creature the more they are at risk of loosing themself. Of not coming out." She shook her head fearfully. "I'm sorry my lord but I swear I know no more" 

Bran oh gods Bran what was happening to you? "Can you think of anyone who might?"

The look she gave him filled him with hope. "The crannognmen are long believed to have remained close to the Children of the Forrest, even after they disappeared elsewhere south of the wall. If anyone had the answer it would be them."

He stepped back and took a breath. "What you have said is of great help Old Nan. Thank you." Howland Reed of course. Deep in though he walked off, grabbing hold of a servant passing by. "I need you to find Jory Cassel and send him to my solar immediately."

He was vaguely aware of the door closing as he entered his solar. Hurrying over to his desk he looked at the latest messages and notes. Finding one with a date he sat down heavily in his chair. No one had told him how long he had been in the black cells but if Robb was marching south it had to be two months atleast. Calling the banners of Northern houses was no easy task with the distances involved. Best he could tell it was 7 months before Robert turned up. Why that long? Why not longer or shorter? Shaking his head he concentrated on a more important matter of what the hell was he going to write. How much detail did he go into?

He'd just done his second version when a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Seeing it was Jory he once again found himself tongue tied, images of him lying in the street of Kings Landing as the smug bastard ...

"My lord?"

He blinked, realising Jory was standing there awaiting orders. "Jory I want you you go down to Moat Cailin with this message and a Stark banner flag to fly off what's left of the eastern battlements. You are not to leave till one of the crannognmen pick it up. In fact don't leave till you get a response or Lord Reed joins you " He paused for a second. "Take Alyn or Hallis down with you in case you have any problems. Try and get a look around the place while you wait. See how much usuable stone there still is, and check out the Drunken Tower. I'm curious how stable it actually it is."

"Yes my lord." 

"Jory." He felt his tongue dry up in his throat. What do say to someone you had gotten killed? "I don't think I've ever thanked you for all you have done for this family. Your father would be proud."

Some dust seemed to have gotten caught in the man's eyes as he tried to stand straighter. "Thank you my Lord, it has been an honour. I will leave immediately." 

Sitting back in his chair he was in deep thought. When he heard knocking at his door which turned out to be Luwin. "I came to check on you my lord your wife had said you would be with the children."

Ohh gods he had forgotten about the rest of his children. "Thank you Luwin. Has there been any change? Were you able to find anything?" 

"His temperature has improved but his eyes are still ... changing. " The old man shook his head. "I hate to say it my Lord but I still have no idea what alles him."

He had to tread carefully here. "What if it is not an ailment as such. There have always been stories that the Starks of old had certain abilities. Abilities from the old days, back from when my ancestor married the daughter of a wildling King."

His old confidant gave him a sad smile. "It is natural for one to reach to folklore and tales when a medical solution is not readably available. But I believe one will be found either by myself or the citadel." The maester eyed him suspiciously. "Would this by any chance be coming from talking to Old Nan?"

He found himself shuffling in his chair. "Be that as it may I have taken other steps. That is why Jory is on his way to Moat Cailin to try and raise Lord Reed. I realise it will take time, time that Bran may not have, but I must do what I can. Besides there are other matters I need to discuss with him" 

Luwin looked at him, but what ever question was on his lips died when the door opened to see a very angry Catlin looking a him. "Ned Stark you said you were going to speak to the children."

Ohh now he was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to figure out a time period was tricky.


	3. Chapter 3

Lunch was a downcast affair, there was very little noise past the sound of eating and drinking. He looked over to his wife who had not said a word to him since the scolding she had given him in his study. Not that he would admit to anyone what had happened. Gods it was hard to ask her what she had been thinking taking Tyrion prisoner like that. If she had stopped to think what Tywin's reaction would be when he found out she had taken his son hostage. What his reaction would be. He shook his head, this thinking would only do his mind in. 

"So you're not sick as well?"

Pausing he looked across to Arya who was looking at him with concerned eyes.

"Sorry my love?"

"When I came in this morning you didn't look well and you were all smelly."

He heard a slight spluttering noise coming from his wife. And quite possibly a sound of disgust from his oldest but he didn't dare look. "No little one, just a ... a bad night's sleep that is all." Hearing a scoffing sound he did look up to see Theon trying to suppress a laugh. Jon was sitting beside the other boy looking uncomfortable but with a slight smile on his face. He watched as the boy's eyes dart to the side and then quickly look down again.

Confused he looked to his left to Cat who was studiously looking down at her own food. His mind danced back to their earlier conversation. But could he really blame her? For the upteenth time he wandered if he told her the truth would it make a difference to how she treated him. Would she see him as more of a threat or not? Would she be able to forgive him for hiding the truth for all these years? He shook his head, now was not the time for such thoughts. Bran had to be his priority.

"Rodrick said you have sent Jory down to Moat Cailin."

Turning to his oldest he could not stop a small smile from crossing his face at seeing his son again. "Aye, hopefully Bran should be well recovered even by the time Jory arrives. Even so there are things I need to discuss with Lord Reed.

"Is it true their half lizard?"

Being in too much shock at the statment his wife reacted first. "Arya Stark!"

Thankfully his daughter atleast looked a bit embarrassed by her outburst. "Well that's what everyone says. That it's why they never leave the Neck." Though obviously not enough to apologise.

Taking a breath he tried not to sound too dissapointed in his daughter's remark. She was still a child after all. "They are just men, Arya.True they often do not grow tall in stature but they choose to keep to themselves much like the mountain clans do. They are one of our most loyal bannerman and when Howland Reed arrives I expect him to be treated with the honour he deserves." 

In fact if memory served him correct Howland had a son and a daughter about the same age as Arya and Bran. Something to possibly discuss further with Cat and Howard when he arrived. But again only if Bran got better. And he still had to figure out what to do about his own situation. Sighing he pushed his chair back he got up. "I'm going to go to the godswood. Any of you feel free to interrupt me if you wish." He hoped they didn't but it needed to be said either way.

Stepping into the courtyard he felt his breath catch in his throat. The day to day busle of castle life passed by him. In the distance he could hear the sound of Mikel in the forge, the smell of animals waffled in the air. He was home.

Giving a brief nod to the guards he paused slightly at the entrance to the crypts before proceeding to the Godswood. As he moved further away from the castle he started to fully process everything that had happened. Finally laying eyes on the heart tree his eyes started to swell.

Coming to a stop he looked at the red face carved into it, not sure what to expect.

It stared back at him, silent and unhelpful. 

He kept staring at it expecting some help, some type of answer. Eventually getting to his knees. But all he got was silence, only broken by the sound of the wind moving through the trees. Sighing he got up to sit on the rock in front of it, looking out over the small pond.

What in the name of the gods was he supposed to do? Why him? To stop Robb from marching south? War was nothing new Westros, gods knows he had shed his own share of blood in them.

Then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. They had sent him back, not Robb, not some future lord of Winterfell. Him did that mean that he was the last? Had his family di ... had his house ended? All of it?

"Ned? He took his head out of his hands and looked up to see Cat standing above him.

"Cat what has happened?" Blinking he realised the shadows seemed to be alot longer then when he arrived. "How long have I been here?"

"Several hours. I started to get _worried."_ He could see the care and worry all over her face. "Ned are you sure you are okay? I think you should really have Luwin look at you."

"It is nothing Cat, atleast nothing Luwin could have helped. I just needed some time to think alone." 

Her lips tightened and with a quick nod made to turn away. Ohh gods he couldn't let her leave like that. "Wait Cat." He gently grabbed hold of her arm. "You once told me you still felt like a foreigner here, despite all these years. I would like to help change that. I'm not going to ask you to betray your faith just sit here with me. Please."

He could see the hesitancy on her face but with a brief nod she came back to his side. An almost boyish joy crossed his heart as he moved over to make room for her. Once she had settled he felt the nerves come back in force. 

"I guess I should start with the confession. Alot of the time I do not come here to pray, atleast not in the way you may think. I'm still looking for guidance but not from any entity more like..." Gods he was making a mess of this...he wasn't a bloody bard or poet!

"Somewhere to contemplate you mean?"

He smiled at her and was heartened to see her smile back "Aye, contemplate, but at the same time let the sounds take the edge off whatever is on my mind." Looking back out over the small wood he wandered how he could have ever thought about leaving. "I know this place can seem foreboding at times Cat but it can also be a place to find some peace. Even for just a moment."

His love looked around, almost like she was looking at the place for the first time. He watched as she closed her eyes for a second as she took it all in with her ears before opening them again. "Thank you Ned, I think I understand the appeal a bit more now." She squirmed slightly in her place. "Though I must confess siting like this is not something I can ever see myself doing." Turning she looked over her shoulder into the eyes of the face behind them. "Or feeling comfortable being so close to that."

"We could have a bench made, maybe even two. They can be placed somewhere at the edge of clearing at the tree line. That way you can use the place as well. The girls could even come out here occasionally with their sewing, maybe with old nan. But they would have to realise this is a place of prayer and contemplation first."

"Thank you Ned. I think I would like that as would the girls." She gave him a light peck on the cheek while giving his hand a quick squeeze. "But you do need to come back inside."

Of course she would get her way. With a small chuckle he got up giving her his hand, putting his arm through her own when she got up. As they walked back towards the keep he caught a glimpse of the Broken Tower through the thinning trees. Feeling his breath start to hitch he quickly looked back forward, glad Cat had not noticed.

Inside he felt his wolfsblood start to stir from its long slumber. Robert had been right after all. But if war was coming this time he would be ready.

And the pack would survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I don't if there are any actual protocols as such concerning what can be done in a Godswood but this Ned's attempt to bring more of the North into Cat and the girls, Sansa especially.
> 
> I do like the overall look of Winterfell in the tv show but it has been surprisingly hard to find even a fan made map of its layout with what's what. Even as official merchandise they don't seem to be selling blown up copies of the one you see in 8x02. which I find a bit odd.


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

Waking up he could feel the small smile across his face as he looked up at the ceiling of his chambers. He was still home. It had not been a dream. Turning on his side he looked at his wife. He had not tried to recreate the previous night, neither had been in the mood with Bran still being sick. The smile slid away from his face as he say up in bed, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes. Bran's own had returned to their normal colour but the only way to tell was to open his eye lids. Consciousness still eluded his middle son.

Feeling agitated he took one look over to his still sleeping wife. Despite how he felt he managed to get out of bed gently enough not too wake her. Though considering how late she had got to bed he probably could not take that as too much of an accomplishment. 

After giving himself a brief clean he got dressed and went to get some fresh air. As he walked down the hallways he had to stop himself from running his hand along the stone walls, something he had not done since being a child. Since coming back he had fought the need to run his fingers along nearly ever surface. Like it could all be snatched away from him again at any moment.

As he approached the door to the balcony he could already hear the sound of clashing steel below. Looking down he could see his oldest sparing with Jon. Theon was standing on the side not far from Rodrick who was fiddling with the tip of his beard whilst he watched the two boys spar. Ned found himself frowning at this, he knew that gesture well and his eyes flickered back to the spar. It did take him a second to work it out but he could see what was agitating Rodrick. The boys were doing little more then crossing swords. There was little foot work, no real technique.

Before he realised what he was doing he was already on his way down the stairs. Theon was the first to see him make his way over, Rodrick turning on the boy's greeting.

"Good morning my Lord. I"m sorry you are not seeing the boys in their best form." Ned came to stand beside his old friend. "I think Bran's condition is weighting on them."

"Aye, that is probably the right of it." He turned to look once more at the boys, almost wincing at what he was seeing. Waiting for the two to back off slightly he stepped forward. "Enough!"

The two of them stopped, both their eyes widening slightly at seeing him there. He could not help but feel slightly self-conscious, it had been a long time since he had halted a spar like this.

Both of his sons stepped forward, and he was rather disappointed to see neither seemed to be that out of breath.

"Father is it Bran?"

"No Robb he is still unconscious. But Luwin does not believe that is necessarily a bad sign. Just that when he does wake up it will take awhile for him to get back to full health." He looked between the two and sighed. "I realise that you are both concerned, but you must learn to put such thoughts aside when you train. Any man who goes into battle unfocused is one who is not likely to live to see the end of it."

Both his boys nodded then almost at the same time looked down at their feet. He smiled, his mind going back to the simpler time of his youth, sparing with Robert in the Vale. Before he realised what he was doing he found he had taken off his cloak and given it to Rodrick. "Jon give me your sword." 

There was stunned silence all round. He could head a voice being cleared beside him. "My lord, I don't mean to insinuate anything but are you sure that is such a good idea."

Part of him was thinking the same thing. Gods before that fight with the Kingslayer he hadn't been in one since Pike. But then he looked at his oldest, there was confusion in his eyes but mainly there seemed to excitement, maybe even hope. He couldn't back out now. "Aye, I'm sure. Jon hand it over.'

Dutifully his second oldest did so and he strolled out into the middle of the courtyard. Feeling the weight in his hands he held the dulled blade up to his face. He couldn't even remember the last time he held one of these, had it been back in the Vale?

"Father?" He put the blade down and looked at Rob. "Are you sure, I mean..." Part of him knew his son was just showing his concern but he could feel his ire start to rise. He may not be a young man anymore but he was no old man, nor a boy of his summer like his son was.

"Stop stalling Robb and show me what you have." His boy gave a curt nod then after a quick pause attacked with a slash which was too wild that he easily blocked, followed by a thrust which was slower then it should have been.

"Attack me Robb." His son started to pick up speed and efficiency but he still could feel that Robb was holding being. "I said attack me!" And his boy finally did start showing his full metal. Finally in a flash of wolfblood he rushed his son, trapping the boy's sword with his own. Getting a leg in behind him as he did so sending the boy to the ground. Blinking he found himself with the the tip of his sword at his eldest's throat. Ohh gods what had he done?

Taking a step back his sword fell to his side, his grip on it becoming so loose he could feel it almost falling out of his hand. Robb got up on his elbows looking up at him in hurt disbelief. Taking a breath he stepped back forward and held up his hand, glad that his son took it. Once the two had got the younger to his feet he found himself giving his boy a hug that would have impressed even Robert. Pulling away he tried to regain his composure. "Well done son. I appreciate the concern but next time don't hold back or I could end up ringing your head like a bell." 

"You mean to start participating in the boy's sparring my lord?" He looked over to his master of arms then over the man's shoulder to Jon and Theon. And then further behind them to the crowd that seemed to have formed from somewhere. Looking up further he could see Cat did not looked amused, Sansa was beside her with a surprisingly similar expression. Bran and Arya both had their mouths hanging so far open he imagined he could almost make out their tonsils. 

Looking back at the expectation in Robb's eyes he had to wander what he had gotten himself in to. "We will see. I imagine it would do my body good to get some use rather then just sitting behind a desk." He cleared his throat and handed the hilt of the sword to his son. "You boys finish up here, after you've had breakfast come to my solar, there are a couple of things we need to discuss." 

But first he needed a bath and some water. Lots and lots of water.


	5. Chapter 5

Chuckling darkly at himself he looked down at the map in front of him. If his family and Luwin weren't worried about him before they would be if they saw what was on his desk now. His eyes flickered to the other map still rolled up to his right. The one that was of all of Westros. Few good things had come from a Warden having to stare long at one of those.

He sighed and gulped from his cup, his eyes sweeping over the land he had overseen for almost the last 18 years. The Last Hearth, Karhold, The Dreadfort. He paused at the last one, mulling over the bloody history of the two houses. The various lords over the years had, to the best of his knowledge, never hesitated to swear allegiance to the Stark of Winterfell. Not since the last war between the two houses anyway.

The Stark's hold over the North was in a way strengthened by his ancestors kneeling to the dragons and been made one of their Wardens. Now with House Stark linked by marriage to the Wardens of the Riverlands and the Vale, and his friendship with the King, they should be more secure then ever yet.... He sank back into his chair. Yet he had died in front of atleast one daughter and been sent back in time.

Looking again at the Dreadfort he sighed and added to his note of thoughts to try and look into what was happening there. Pausing he looked down at his scribbled notes then added one to confirm where Roose's son Dominc was. He knew the boy was squiring in the Vale but he could not recall where.

The thought of his daughter marrying into that house made him shudder and would have to be considered carefully. If all his sons where to somehow ... fall, though he still could not work how that could happen, any son Sansa had would stand to be the new Warden of the North, with the father as regent till he came of age. Could he really trust Roose? As much as he hated to admit it he was beginning to see the appeal of having a Master of Whisperers. 

Smiling his eyes drifted back to Winterfell, to home. Seeing them all again, even Bran in his condition, made his heart want to burst. But the smile faltered when he though of Jon. For so long he had held the secret of Jon's birth locked away in his brain and heart, convinced it was the right move. But the more he thought about it the less he was sure who exactly it was he was protecting.

Would Jon even want the crown if he was told the truth? The boy did not crave power, despite what Cat feared, but if he knew how badly Robert had run things into to the ground... Sitting back in his chair he rubbed a hand over his face. And that was what scared him for more reasons then he cared to dwell on.

If they boy did declare then he would be duty bound to support him. The chaos it would cause across the realm could exceed that of the rebellion, even here in the north. The likes of the Dustin and Ryells would not take it well. As for the rest of the northern lords, they would probably prefer for him just to declare independence from the iron throne then get involved in another war over it.

He picked up the edge of the map. That could very well be what some was thinking he was looking of doing if he followed through on his plan. And just in the North either. He clinched the map, the parchment groaning in protest. Damn that weasel Littlefinger and that winch Cersei, damn them to hell for thinking it was all just some game. And damn himself for thinking he was above it all.

Taking a breath he relaxed his grip and looked at the map again, moving over the Dreadfort to White Harbour and then down to Moat Cailin. He doubted repairing even just the Gatehouse Tower would be cheap, and would take away men and resources from preparing for winter. Eventually even a small permanent household would have to sustain itself, both financially and in terms of food. To the northwest was the Barrowlands, to the northeast was the Manderlys. He would have to get Luwin to pull up the old records, see if any of it had once been the domain of the old Marsh Kings. But of course that would have to wait till after Bran was fully recovered. 

Hearing a nock at the door he quickly grabbed his paper of notes and the map of Westros and put it aside his desk. Quickly he moved the cup of water and the plate with its remaining breadcrumbs to the side. "Come in." His breath caught when he saw his oldest standing there. Every fiber in his body wanted to come across the room and hug his son again. "Please take a seat."

His oldest came in followed by Theon and Jon. He found himself blinking, what were they doing here? Oh right he had said 'boys' down in the yard. Damit.

The boys took a seat, Robb and Jon making an admiral attempt to appear stoic and serious. Another feeling of pride flashed through him but he pressed it down. Theon appeared subdued at first but when the boy saw he was looking at him some of his normal swagger reappeared. He had do something about that.

Now it was time for him to start he found himself doubting what to say. Did he tell them the truth or stick with his plan? Looking at them he could see their nervousness start to crack through and he found he was unable to burden them with the truth.

Trying to hide the breath he was taking he took his own seat. "I know there have been concerns over my behaviour of late. I have been thinking of the past recently and what may be to come. It has been 9 years since the ... since the realm last saw conflict. Almost twice as long since the start of the rebellion. Even if, gods willing, there is no conflict in the near future I have the feeling the King is going to find an excuse soon to drag me down to that cesspool he lives in. Possibly even to take over from Lord Arryn as Hand."

The three boys looked at him like he had just announced he intended to become a septon. He could see his oldest try hard not to squirm in his seat. “It would be a great honour if he did father. If I’m not wrong the only Stark to hold that post was Cregan Stark and that was only for a couple of days.”

“That would be right son and I’m glad you have been paying attention in your studies.” Robb straightened up slightly at the compliment. “And you are also right in saying that it would be a great honour.” The next bit was going to be hard to say out loud. “But, as much as I hate to admit it, one that I may be ill suited for. The south .... the south is not like the North. We have our politics here true, but everything is tempered by distance and the constant wariness of winter."

He had his boys attention now, as he poured them all some water he thought on his next words. “The south is full of people who think having a shiny suit of armour means they have honour. Others there would pay someone to stab you in the back minutes before shaking your hand." He could not stop bitterness from seeping through his words. And he was sure it did not go unnoticed by any of them. “The capital in particular is full of lords and ladies with nothing to do but scheme and plot.”

“So if he does ask father do you intend to refuse?” Asked Jon softly. "Starks of late have not fared well in the south."

And that was the crux of the matter, Could he really do it? Abandon Robert? Could he save him? Was he even worth saving? The last thought shook him to his core. 

"Father?"

Shaking himself he got back to the matter at hand. "Sorry my mind was in another place. The truth of the matter is … the truth is I don’t know what I would do Jon, I really don’t.” The four of them sat in silence for a second. Taking a gulp of water, part of him wishing it was beer despite the hour. He put the cup back down onto his desk, strumming the rim gently with his fingers. “Be that as it may it is time we started to discuss certain matters concerning your futures.”

He turned to Robb first being the easiest. “Luwin has had nothing but praise for your studies but I think it may be an idea that you spend a little bit of time with me in my solar, prehaps just before the evening meal to go over the day.”

“Jon I know you have your mind set on joining the watch, that … that you look to make your own way. But I ask for you to put it off, atleast for now.” Mentioning the watch stirred a memory in him. The deserter he had beheaded just before they found the direwolves. He shook his head, he could ponder such things later, the boys already looked like they wanted Luwin to give him a proper examination. “Your uncle Benjan joined about your age and I still remember the look on his face the first time he was able to come back to Winterfell.” Part of him also wanted to mention the state that the watch was in but that would probably make the boy want to join even more. 

His heir turned to his brother sitting to his right. "You're a better swordsman then I am Jon. If there is fighting ahead we're going to need you"

"What? We've both beat him plenty of times." Though the slight furrow in his eyebrows suggested even Theon realised there was something off in his statement. All eyes turned to Jon who squirmed slightly under the gaze.

He had been holding back? Why would he hold ... ohh of course. It took all of his control not to curse out loud. "Jon the whole purpose of training is to push each other. If you feel uncomfortable then you can start doing it where ... where there are less prying eyes."

"Like the godswood?"

"Aye." Ohh gods the benches. "Atleast in the mornings anyway, I promised .... Lady Stark I'm going to have atleast one bench made for the girls and her to use."

Robb smiled. "I don't know if Arya will like that. Half the reason she goes there is to hide from mother and Septa Mordane." That got a chuckle from all four of them and he found himself start to relax.

The sound of shuffling had all eyes shifting to the Greyjoy who had developed a pensive look across his face. "What about me Lord Stark?"

Tension refilled his shoulders as he stared at the boy. "You will still need to stay here for now Theon. It is of no fault of your own but the sad fact that none truly trust your father, even after he bent the knee." His father was in fact bloody lucky to keep his head. "I'll tell you what, if you want to send a raven, or even a letter to your sister, I will see that it is delivered. She can even come to Winterfell if she wishes." His bannermen, and women for that matter, would not like it but if it help secure their western coast he would bare it.

"But I'm not allowed to go see her? To see my father?" The boy got to his feet, hands clinched by his side. "Am I to remain a prisoner here till they both meet the Drowned God?"

The mention of the Ironborn's diety jolted something in him as he looked up at his ward. "A prisoner? Is that how you see yourself? Have I ever had you confined or guarded? Have I not treated you the same as any of my children?"

"But I'm not your child am I?"

Gods give him strength. "No you are not. But I am the only reason you have not spent the last nine years at the wall, let alone still alive. You would be best to remember that."

The silence that followed gave him a chance to realise that somewhere along the line he had also gotten to his feet. Theon looked at him, there were so many conflicting emotions going across the boy's face he didn't know how to start addressing them. "May I be excused my Lord?" 

He could only bring himself to nod at the boy's request. Watching him walk out the door he could only try and comprehend how this could have gone so wrong. Sitting back down he stared blankly at his two boys. They in turn stared down at his desk. Sighing he sat back in his chair. "You two should go, see he doesn't do anything rash."

As they both got back up to leave something occurred to him. "Robb." His son looked down at him. "We will start tonight." 

After the two left he slumped back into his seat. And this was supposed to have been in the easiest of the conversations he had planned to have today. Now he had to have one with Sansa and Arya. And then Cat and the septa.

Gods help him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some writers underestimate how tricky it would be for Jon to launch a reclamation. Members of some of the most important houses in the Vale, North and Riverlands either lost members with Brandon, during the war, or at the Tower of Joy.


	6. Chapter 6

Deciding he needed to stretch his legs he got back up from his desk, stretching his back as he did so. He had probably pushed his body, in one way or another, in the last couple of days and nights then he had in the last couple of years. Feeling his checks redden he quickly reached for the his cup, gulping down the liquid. He had already embarrassed himself in front of one daughter, he did not think he could handle doing it in front of both at the same time.

Making his way down he nodded to the servants as he passed. Finding himself outside the door he paused, trying to remember the last time he had entered the room. He knocked but entered before waiting a response before entering. Standing in the doorway it hit him, it had been just after he arrived back from the Vale, still trying to comprehend everything that had happened. Then another memory assaulted him, of interrupting one of the few sewing lessons Lyanna had had with Old Nan after their mother died.

"Father?"

He blinked, his mind being pulled back into the present. There were five pairs of questioning eyes looking up at him, his daughters, their septa, as well as Beth Cassel and Jayne Poole. Gods he had actually forgotten that she had come south with them, what had happened to her? It was all almost enough to make him shuffle his feet like a little boy. "I am sorry to intrude but I was looking to speak to my daughters."

Septa Mordane got to her feet, the young girls obediently following. "It is no intrusion my lord, in fact Sansa was just putting the finishing touches on something she has done for Bran."

"I made this for Bran." He took the piece of cloth from his oldest daughter, it looked like the 7 pointed star of the seven with a female coming out of it. "I know it is not really my place and mother has nearly finished her prayer wheel but I thought maybe I could put it under his pillow?" 

He did his best to put a smile on his face, despite his internal disquiet, there was no doubting his daughter's sincerity. "That is very thoughtful of you Sansa it is beautifully done."

"I..." He turned to his youngest daughter who for some reason looked up at him teary eyed. Before he could blink she had bolted past him out the door.

"Arya!" What could have possibly caused that reaction?

Vaguely he heard foot steps behind him "My Lord I'm sorry I will go after her."

"No. I will speak to her, I think I know where she is going." Turning back to look out the door some thing on the ground caught his eye. Picking it up he held what only could be Arya's needlework. He could tell it was supposed to be their houses sigil. It was not up to Sansa's skill but he didn't think there was anything particularly wrong with it especially considering her age.

"I'm afraid my Lord that despite my best efforts Arya will still not commit to her lessons."

"You should consider yourself lucky you never had to handle my sister she..." Gods when was the last time he had talked about her out loud? Should it really still be this hard? "She did not have much patience for sewing either, especially on a clear day."

The room was full of a uncomfortable silence. Finally he manageld to look at Sansa who seemed just as amazed as he was that he was talking about his sister. "I think I have a couple of small pieces of her work in the chest in my solar, possible some of my .. some of your grandmothers as well. If you are interested in seeing them let me know."

Sansa's eyes lite up at that. "Thank you father. I would like that."

He felt his throat tighten slightly as he nodded his head. "I will have a look when I have a chance. Arya should see them as well so I will send for you both if I find anything."

"Why?" She blinked at the look he gave her. "I mean father I don't think Arya would care. She is more likely to just blow her nose with whatever you show her."

The other two girls giggled only to grow silent under his gaze. In fact they both look slightly terrified of him. Part of him felt slightly guilty at that but there was no time for that at the moment. They may be Sansa's friends but they were still the daughters servants and should know to show more respect. 

"They would be as much part of her heritage as yours Sansa." He wanted to say more but this was not the time or the place. Even if he didn't find anything it would be worth sitting down with his two girls.

He looked back down at the two pieces of fabric in his hands. Placing them together he folder them up and gave them to Sansa. "I will go find Arya. Hold on to both of these for now and continue your session." He gave her cheek a light squeeze and a kissed her forehead. "I love you Sansa." With a brief nod to the Septa he left the room. As he was closing the door behind him he caught a glimpse of confusion on Sansa's face that was eerily similar to the one his wife often gave him.

He sighed softly as the door finished closing. That last bit was probably a bit much but it just slipped out, he was lucky he had not said more. Not for the first time he wondered what had happened to her, to them all after his death. Shaking his head he mentally pushed himself forwarded. He had a daughter to find.

\------------------------------------------------------------

Entering the Godswood again he made his way to the heart tree, almost daring it to respond. Of course it didn't, which he really should have expected by now. Sighing he looked around the ancient wood, searching amongst the falling shadows for movement.

"Arya! Are you here?" He kept looking though he wasn't expecting any reaction just yet. "I just want to talk with you honey. Your not in any trouble I swear, I just want to talk with you." Still nothing. "You won't have to go back to Septa Mordane, not today anyway." That would probably work.

Seeing a glimpse of movement he focused on the unnaturally moving branch. "Come on out Arya. I don't want to have to ask again."

She came forward slowly, head bowed and he could almost see the tail hanging limply between her legs. Giving his best smile he held out his arm. Thankfully she rushed into his chest. Standing there he wrapped his other arm around her, soaking in the feel of her in his arms once again.

"I know I shouldn't have run." Atleast that is what he believe she said, it was kind of hard to tell with his arms almost totally encompassing her head. He held her there for a long minute, basking at the feeling of holding her as the sounds of the Godswood washed through him. But as much as he wished he could stand there with her he knew that he still had work to do. "It's okay my love." Stepping back slightly he looked down at her and gave her cheek a light squeeze. "I understand. Come on." He put an arm around his shoulders and started to lead her towards the Heart tree.

It was alot easier fit then with Catelyn, the fact Arya was still clinging to him so tightly didn't hurt in that regard. With his time in the black cells he hadn't almost forgotten how short she was. "Arya I know that you have always ... struggled with some of the lessons that Septa Mordane teaches you..."

"She doesn't really teach us anything!" She jolted up and for a split second then he thought he was looking a different set of long departed eyes,. "It is all about stitching and the Seven! Why do we even need to learn about them anyway? We're Starks, we should be learning about the old gods. You had the sept built right? Septa Mordane and Septon Chayle came with mother and they were the first ones here?"

He tried to break apart what she had just said into manageable parts to understand. How can children sound so logical yet so baffling at the same time? "Aye I did get the sept built for your mother, and Mordane and Chyle were the first of their orders to come here. But Chyle was actually born not far from here in the lands of the Manderlys. And I know you get on alright with him." Least he could not recall there being any trouble between the two.

The fabric of his tunic rustled slightly as she moved her head against it. "He's okay I guess. He lets me look at the books in the library and doesn't try to shoo me out or go run and tell mother on me." 

He lightly stroke her hair, the way she said mother had him worried for a reasons he could not quite put a finger on. "Arya you know your mother loves you right?"

"She wishes that I was more like Sansa, they both do."

Both? "Arya has the Septa said something?"

The silence was not helping his mood. "It's okay Arya, you're not in any trouble I swear." 

"She, she said that nothing good will come of me. That I had the hands of a blacksmith. " The girl buried her head back into his chest, squashing any thoughts he had of going for Ice.

He tried to think of what to saying but found himself coming up short. Coming back from the dead had not given him any insight on how to talk with girls. "You know my ... your ..." He felt his throat drying up." Even after all these years, even after mentioning her earlier, openly talking about his sister was still something that broke his heart.

Sighing he looked down into the inquisitive eyes of his youngest daughter and gave her hair a good ruffling. "I tell you what. The training yard is free so why don't we find you a bow and a full quiver and you show me what you can do."

"Really?" Her eyes brightened up with hope. Squealing at the brief nod he gave her she wiggled out of his arms and raced back towards the exit. 

Laughing gently at the sight of her scampering away he gingerly got back to his feet. In the back of his mind he knew that there were more more important things he should be doing but they could wait just a bit longer. First he had a daughter to spend some time with then, then he had a household to put in order. 

**Author's Note:**

> So starting another story is probably not the best idea but hey lets see how it goes.


End file.
